He wanted to tell her about his conversation with the man but it would have sounded mad. He wanted to dismiss what he had been saying, but his heart rang like a tuning fork for truth. Strange things had been happening. Coincidence could take you only so far. No, Gregory had known Ivan’s name. This was something far above Aldous’ level of expertise. 

The dizzying tingle of booze crept its way behind Aldous’ eyes. He would have to call an Uber for Julie. Aldous attention slipped from the show. Parlor tricks and mischief was all that was on stage. The Great Gregory had abilities, that much was certain. But, he doubted that much of the show was anything other than an illusion.

The thermos was empty by curtain call. The wall of smoke returned and wisped the man away. Julie and the crowd lifted their cries in one last applaud. Blinding floodlights switched on. Couples and families blinked away the tear-jerking photons. Julie stood to her feet. Her face was flushed with delight. A smile coaxed crows feet from the corners of her eyes. 

“Let’s get out of here before the crowd gets too much to handle!” she shouted above the other patrons.

“Hmm,” Aldous agreed. Body heat had accumulated in the room. Sweat pooled in his armpits, staining the white fabric.

They could feel the crisp, northwest air 50-feet from the main gate. Small particulates of rain were sucked in by the building’s industrial fans and distributed over the audience members. He sucked in a deep breath, letting the freshness quell his claustrophobia. People poured from the gates by the dozens. They pushed and prodded, covering the pavement in a flood of bodies. The slight drizzle had risen to a steady rain. Raindrops pattered off of the sidewalk and launched themselves into the air. The oil in the asphalt seeped to the surface in an opalescent sheen. The exposed skin on Aldous’ neck crinkled against the cold. 

“What did you think of the mentalist?”

He terrifies me, Aldous thought. “He was quite… theatrical.”

She shot him a funny squint. “Isn’t that the point?”

“That’s fair.”

“Are you feeling okay?” 

Aldous scowled. “I’m sorry, it’s the crowd. I don’t deal well with them, and being hypnotized. I don’t think I liked it, not being in control of my own body. It just made me uncomfortable.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have asked you to come if I had known.”

Aldous smiled and brushed off the statement. He wanted to tell her about the synchronicities, about the dream, and the conversation with Gregory. The fact that she would never believe him kept his mouth sealed. He would be in a psych ward faster than he could say One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. Instead, all he said was: “I had a good time, other than that. All is well that ends well, right?”

A hint of a smile returned to her. She took a deep breath in, savoring the oxygen. “God, it’s good to be out of the lab. Aren’t you glad? It’s been starting to feel like I live there.”

“Yes,” Aldous lied. Often there were times that he wished he could be in the lab rather than where everyday life had placed him, now being one of them.

Julie yawned and looked out over the city block. “This is a good place.”

Aldous nodded and pulled out his phone. “Let me get you an Uber, I think I’ve had a bit too much to drive you home.”

She nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

A silver Subaru Forester pulled up to the curb. Marco, the driver, sat in the cab. His face was stuffed in his phone. 

Julie turned to Aldous. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

“Thanks for inviting me. I’ll see you in the lab on Monday.”

“See you.”

Aldous watched the vehicle pull away. Red brake lights reflected off the wet pavement in a kaleidoscopic array. His shoulders started to tremble. The cold bit into his arthritic joints. He sped-walked to his car, despite the pain. Keys jingled as he inserted the key into the locked vehicle.

The inside of the cab felt comfortable. Fog had gathered on the windows, obscuring the outside world from view. The effects of the booze clouded his senses, but he didn’t care. He needed out of these crowded streets. He wanted the comforting normalcy of his bland apartment. 

The car growled to life, breathing its exhaust on the asphalt behind it. The bumper to bumper traffic dissipated a few blocks from the arena. Aldous relaxed his eyes and lowered his shoulders to their natural resting place. The magician had said that it wasn’t an accident that he was there. Why had Dr. Glass invited him anyway? It was clear that nothing romantic was on the table. They were friendly at work, but it was never a courtesy extended outside of the lab. He wanted nothing to do with the Great Gregory or ancient forces.

The rain pattered down on the roof of the car. Its repetitive barrage lulled Aldous into a dangerous trance. His eyelids lowered halfway to their resting point. The muscles in his hand and forearm that gripped the wheel slackened. His head bobbed and lowered. He shook awake and chomped down, clacking his teeth together. A molar cried out its protest, but the uncomfortableness kept him alert.

The red and blue lights of a police car roared to life two cars over. With a wailing cry, the vehicle sped off down the slick asphalt. Aldous flexed his fingers against the wheel. He could feel every pound of the two-ton vehicle hurtle onward at 65-mph. He should have just called himself an Uber.

Thunder rippled through the upper atmosphere. Cold, electric blue light flashed against purple, stormfront clouds. The American flag raised in the front entryway strained against its thin cable. The rain had started to fall in sheets and soaked anything it came into contact with. Aldous turned out his headlights and looked out into the murk. 

He turned and pulled a disposable poncho from the glove compartment, something any true Washingtonian has. The wind blasted rain through the hood. It dribbled down his neck and teased an involuntary shiver. A stray cat sat under an awning, licking gray fur. Piercing blue eyes followed the man’s movements, tracking each step with predatory curiosity.

He discarded the dripping article in the recycling bin and grabbed a whiskey glass from his cupboard. The nearly empty decanter gazed back at him from the kitchen counter. He poured a shot, downed it, and poured another. 

Maybe he was crazy, after all. The stress of his job had increased as of late. Deadlines were stacked against each other, lab results needed to be processed, and experiments needed to be created. All of it was in a field two decades away from its genesis. Most schizoaffective disorders were triggered by excess stress. He was in his 60’s and psychotic breaks late in life were uncommon but it wasn’t unheard of. He would have to schedule an appointment with a psychiatrist, one outside of his work’s affiliation.

He sipped his whiskey and walked into the living room. His recliner longed for him, and he longed for his recliner. He settled into the worn leather, sinking into the pocket created by years of use. He flipped on the television and picked the nature channel. David Attenborough lulled him to sleep with his accented pontification.

The TV was dark when he woke. The clock on the mantle refused to give up the time. The telltale hum of electricity was gone. A glance outside revealed there to be a lack of power to the block. Dark shadows were blown around in the gusts. Trees bent and groaned against mother nature’s mighty breath. Sparse headlights meandered their way through the streets, maneuvering around fallen trees and debris. 

He clicked open his phone. 3:09 AM stared back from the screen.

This is the second windstorm to kill the power inside of a week, Aldous thought. Washington’s climate and constant downpour made for famously shitty power infrastructure. It was better than it had been when he had first moved to the Pacific Northwest, but it was normal for blackouts to last a few days. 

Aldous leaned over and picked up his half-finished whiskey. The smoky aroma tickled his olfactory senses before being chased away by the alcohol burn. He downed the elixir and sat back against his chair. It was cool inside. It felt like the furnace had lost power several hours before. The temperature had dropped enough for gooseflesh to pepper his forearms.

A large, leather-bound tome sat on the coffee table next to the couch. Metallic font spelled out Bible across the spine. Smudges and smooth edges had been worn into the book over years of study. It had been Aldous’ father's. The scriptures had sat on a pulpit for years when he had preached. When he had died Aldous had kept the book where it had sat. A thick layer of dust sealed the pages closed. Aldous doubted that he would ever open the judgmental text. 

The dark was heavy. It was the kind of atmosphere that a late autumn day in Florida would have. But, this was different. Instead of the thick humidity, fear was abundant. The wind howled, blowing debris against the window. He muttered an obscenity and walked to the kitchen. The last of the whiskey dribbled from the neck of the decanter into his cup. The ice tray in the freezer contained half-melted cubes. He dumped them into his glass.

The ice clinked against the sides. The cubes expanded in the liquid, cracking their crystalline structure. The potion burned his throat but soothed his mind. He had not been close to his father, but emotions tugged at his heart. Esophageal cancer had stolen his life away 16-years prior.

Silhouetted evergreens danced in choreographed turbulence outside the window. A coyote prowled the darkened street. The canine hugged the side of the building. His head was lowered to the ground in pursuit of an unknown scent. He stopped, tilting his head toward Aldous’ window. Its eyes shimmered green in the dark, snout furrowed in a predatory stare. 

Aldous held his breath. The only sound was the ice crackling in his drink. The coyote tensed and darted down the street. It veered to the left into an alleyway, away from Aldous study.

“Your world is violent, tonight.”

Aldous dropped his whiskey. The glass shattered and scattered across the tile floor. He spun, looking for the ominous speaker. The apartment was concealed in darkness. The armoire, couch, and side table were where they should be. There was nobody else in the room. 

“Show yourself!”

“I am not hiding.”

The voice came from behind Aldous. He spun to the window. His breath caught in his throat. A tsunami of adrenaline flooded his alcohol-soaked veins. A churning shadow covered the windowpane. Undulating appendages pulsed in iridescent hues. Suction cups planted themselves on the glass. The being did not look solid, just flat like a reflection. 

Aldous backed away. Broken glass crunched underneath his feet. “You’re from my dreams.”

The being chuckled. “No, I am from somewhere else entirely. We don’t have time for that, though. The time is approaching. I need Ivan.”

“H-he’s mine!” Aldous stuttered. “You can’t have him.”

The reflection pressed its tentacles across the glass. The orange and red bioluminescent patches pulsed ethereal light into the dark room. Any skin that the light touched tingled with chilling electricity. “You will help me. By this time tomorrow, the ape will be mine.”

Aldous put a retreating foot behind him but it bumped against the counter. “Why would I?”

“Do I look like I take no for an answer? Even if I have to crawl into your realm and drag you to the lab myself than by all that is unholy, I will do it.”

Aldous turned and sprinted around the counter. His hip collided with the corner, sending him to the floor. His bones jarred against one another, unaided by the comfort of a younger man’s cartilage. He sat back against the counter, squinting in pain. 

“Do not think you can run from me?” the voice called from the living room. 

Aldous opened his eyes and gazed through the tears. The stainless steel fridge towered above his crouched profile. A flash of orange light pulsed in the corner, followed by another. Tentacles rolled outwards from the perimeter to the center of the fridge. The being pulsed and undulated in agitated delight. 

“Where do you think you are going?”

Aldous pressed his back against the counter. The panel pressed up against the back of his skull, cutting off circulation. “Please, don’t hurt me!”

“Daft! I have more power than anyone in your world can imagine. If I wanted to hurt you I would and there would be nothing you could do about it.”

Aldous’ mouth gaped as he scrambled for words. “What is your name?”

The entity pulsed and undulated around itself as it thought over the question. “Names are such a human idea. There never has been and there never will be another like me. I am the destroyer and the builder, an architect of the divine. I am the sum of all that ever was and will be. I am the pinnacle of a creative universe. You would think of me as a god, but that is a shallow approximation of my existence.”

A tentacle reached out from the hoard and pressed itself up against the stainless steel. The orange pulse had faded to an iridescent teal. It pulsed faster and faster until it lit the kitchen in a strobe. 

“I have unfathomable power. If you help me, I can give you what you want most.”

Aldous’ mouth dropped open. The pale blue light blocked the rest of the kitchen from his field of view. His breathing quickened and shallowed. A strange sense of calm danced along his spine. He moved his mouth, barely uttering the word. “Youth,”

“Not just youth, an untainted past! How would you like a fresh start at life? Give me your hand and I will show you… everything.”

Aldous lifted his hand off of the tile and hovered it in front of the fridge. Caution tickled the back of his skull, but it was faint. The metal was cold to the touch. It vibrated at a level just below a perceptive hum. Energy crawled along the surface and coursed into Aldous. His hand was stuck to the object like someone attached to a high voltage power line. His back tensed against the counter and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

It was warm and comfortable. The air felt thick with oxygen. Zephyrs parted fields of thick foliage. Aldous bent and picked a stalk, twisting it between two fingers. The fibrous stem felt firm, yet supple. Seedpods crowned the grain-like plant. The sky was crisp and clean. Rays of sunshine flooded through puffy clouds. Birdsong of unknown origin flitted across his ears.

“Look at your hands.”

Aldous turned. The being hovered a few feet above the grass. In the sunlight, it looked less malevolent. Tentacles hovered and swirled, morphing in and out of each other. It looked like something that belonged underneath the ocean.

He looked down at his hands. The fear that had left Aldous was replaced by joy. His knobby knuckles and saggy skin we're gone! Deep wrinkles had filled into a smooth palm, free of liver spots. His chest felt alive with youth. His feet soared under him. The strength he had lost to a younger self was reinstated in full. Aviary creatures fluttered through the skyline. They were like birds but instead of feathers, leaves adorned their wings.

“Where are we?” 

“This is what is to come. All of this can be yours. Age and death do not have to befall you. Your joints would never ache again. Your mind would be clear and sharp. Your past does not have to haunt you. Do you want this?”

Aldous nodded. Tears leaked from his ducts and down onto his cheeks. The grass felt so soft beneath his fingers. His body felt sound and strong. He curled and uncurled his fingers to test his range of motion. He would be able to play songs on the piano again. And, who knows, maybe even write his own! 

“What I'm giving you is more than just your youth. I'm giving you a fresh start, a blank canvas to do anything you want with. A new world to make your own. I just need one thing.”

Aldous was snapped back into his kitchen. The being sat suspended in the reflection as before. The fear rushed back into Aldous’ psyche. His hip ached from his impact with the counter. “You need Ivan.”

“Yes,” it rumbled. 

“If I give you the ape, I get my fresh start.”

It threw a tentacle in an agitated tick. “Yes,”

Aldous bit his lip. His body ached, and not just his hip. His hands, his knees, his back felt like they were 67 years old. Oh, God how his back ached. “We have a deal.”

The pulsating amber bioluminescence switched to bright white light. “Tomorrow you will get a call from the lab. Be ready. There is no room for mistakes.”

“I will be.”

The visitor’s reflection drifted away until it was nothing more than a speck of darkness. Aldous was alone once again. Sounds of the night drifted in through the cracked window. He rose to shaking feet and placed his hands on the counter. He replaced his broken glass and grabbed a bottle of gin from the freezer. He shot the liquid and dragged himself to his bedroom. He listened to his bones creak and joints crack. The mattress was not friendly. Despite the un-comfort, Aldous drifted into sleep without the usual struggle.